


White Noise

by Winter Waters (mystmae)



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, M/M, Suicide, Working Out My Feelings Through Fic, don't read if you are feeling depressed, major angst, please beware of trigger warnings, seek help if needed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-14
Updated: 2018-06-14
Packaged: 2019-05-23 08:52:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14931116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mystmae/pseuds/Winter%20Waters
Summary: What is the point of having a dream if you don’t seek it? What’s the point of waking up every day if there is no one to share the day with? What’s the point of a having a heart, but no one to love? What’s the point of laughter when there are no friends to share the joy with? What’s the point of any of it?





	White Noise

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! Before you read this, I'll explain a bit. This fic is coming from some things I've been trying to work through. One of the closet people closest too me committed suicide and his anniversary of death has recently passed. I've been thinking a lot about him and wishing for another chance just to talk to him. Some of the things in this fic are things that he wrote down in his letter to me, some are fictional. So, please, just be kind when you read this, and again, if you are feeling down or having any of these kind of thoughts, please ask for help and try to fight, not just for your self, but the ones that are going to be left behind.

What is the point of having a dream if you don’t seek it? What’s the point of waking up every day if there is no one to share the day with? What’s the point of a having a heart, but no one to love? What’s the point of laughter when there are no friends to share the joy with? What’s the point of any of it?

~

~

~

            He didn’t feel any joy anymore. He didn’t hear the music or feel the dance anymore. He didn’t have a dream anymore. He didn’t have anyone anymore. He didn’t even have himself. All there is in the dark was the soul numbing pain and the white noise of the world. The pain of feeling empty. A husk of a once bright person. He used to be that. A bright person, someone who went out of his way to bring smiles to strangers. Someone who was always surrounded by friends and family. That used to be him, now when he stares into the mirror, some stranger stares back. A gaunt face, thinned beyond recognition. His hair dark and unwashed, matted by the oil in his hair. A stranger who no longer can hear the chaos of the world, only the white noise of static. A stranger who pushed his own friends and family away. A stranger who lived for silence when he used to live for the chaotic, beautiful noise of life. Sometimes, he missed the noise. The happy chatter of his friends. The many nights they spent together around the bonfire, drinking and making music. He missed the occasional fights. The petty wars that always erupted and ended into laughter. He missed his friends. Though, he had no one to blame but himself. He was the one who pushed everyone away. He stopped returning texts and phone calls. It was too much effort to force only cheerful hellos when he just wanted to scream. It was too exhausting to keep pretending to be how he used to be. Too exhausting to remember to laugh when a joke was told, too exhausting to push the static in his ears to drown out his inner demons. It was too demanding to pretend to be how he used to be. He knows they worry about him, but he can’t bring himself to care. Eventually, they stopped trying and he can’t even remember to feel sad about it.

 

            His family tried harder. They would come over to his apartment and drag him out into the world. His mom and dad making him forget how empty he is just for a little while. He goes to the therapy sessions. He talks about what he’s feeling and how the world seems to bed drowning in the white noise in his mind. He doesn’t think the therapist really understands him, because the exercises she has him doing isn’t working. He knows that his parents worry and he remembers for a time, to be that dutiful son. He tries, for them at least, he tries, but he doesn’t have the heart to tell them that it isn’t working. The white noise is still clouding his mind, only letting his inside thoughts be heard. And, pretending, works for a while; until it doesn’t. Then he’s back to being exhausted. All he wants to do is crawl in bed and never get out of it again. He can tell that they are starting to worry again, and he can’t take it. He just can’t deal with it. So, he cuts his lease and moves to a rundown one room apartment. He doesn’t tell anyone where he goes. He pretends to be happy about it. He pretends that he’s doing this for them. So that they can be happy and not worry about him anymore. He pretends that it’s ok, but he knows that he’s just lying to himself. Lying is something that he’s gotten used to, and it’s something that he’s gotten good at. He almost believes even himself, late at night, when his guards a weaker. The white noise is always there to remind him of the truth again.

~ ~ ~

 

            He pretends he doesn’t feel lonely. He pretends that this is what he wanted, and that he was doing this to protect the ones that he loves. Or, loved. Again, he lies to himself. He becomes a robot. He wakes up, goes to his new job at the gas station right up the street. It’s the one that gets robbed twice a week, but he doesn’t care anymore. Not even when the last time he was held at gun point, silently begging the robber to end his sad existence. He laughs out loud with no feeling as the robber shakes his head in confusion. He comes home and lays on the bed that hasn’t been made up since he moved in. Sometimes he remembers to eat, sometimes he doesn’t. he also doesn’t talk anymore. Well, not unless he has too at his new job, but really who cares there? Most people shopping at that gas station just want their beer and cigarettes while they try to forget their own sad, pathetic lives. He remembers how to mumble ‘ _hi’_ and _‘bye’_ , but no one ever says it back. Sometimes, he even forgets his name with no one around to call his name anymore.

 

            He gets a shock one night that shuts the white noise off for a moment. In that moment, he can hear the world again, and he’s free for a moment, but then he sees it. He sees an old picture on the television screen at the gas station. It’s an oddly familiar face. Only when he squints his dull eyes does he realize that it’s him. It’s him on a missing poster. It’s him smiling and being happy. He feels cold now, looking at how bright he used to be. His eyes turn to his parents who are holding the miniature press conference. He sees his mother clutching his picture, quietly weeping into his father’s shoulder as he speaks to the crowd. He’s pleading for anyone to find him and bring him home. His father turns to the camera and pleads directly to him, begging him to come home. For a fleeting second, he feels guilt. Guilt at leaving his parents alone. Guilt for breaking their hearts and spirits. He tells himself that he is doing this for them, but again, he lies to himself. He knows they love him, but he himself can’t love them back with no heart. So, for a minute, he feels guilty before the white noise drowns it out with the cold numbness he always feels. His eyes flick around the screen, trying not to think any more about his parents and the guilt he feels in seeing his mother’s tear stained face. He stops when he sees a face in the crowd. A face that still haunts his dreams when he manages to sleep. It’s a face that hurt the most when he pushed it away.

~

~

~

 

            He sees _him_ and the memories break through his guards. Like an old family movie that’s fuzzy and the contrast is too dark to see the picture clearly. He remembers anyways. He remembers his voice when he used to sing in the kitchen, the little dances he did when no one was watching. He remembers the kisses. The ones light and playful. The ones that annoyed him because they were to chaste. The ones filled with passion all night when they couldn’t get enough of each other. The ones that hurt to remember were the ones filled with so much love that held him together the longest. He knows the other boy tried to help when he first started to drown in the white noise. There was less laughter at home, the cold never seemed to thaw around them. He tried for him the most. More than his friends and parents, he never wanted to see that face without a smile. It made the guilt worse when he causes him to worry. It made the white noise worse when he was the reason there was pain on his face. So, with the last of his strength, he pushed.

 

            He pushed him away as hard as he could. He killed his own beating heart when he broke _His._ The hurt and betrayal on his face makes him fight to stay awake, too much a coward to face _him_ even in dream form. He can’t face the pain he gave to him. The betrayal that he gave to his only love. He stares at his face on the screen. He looks more reserved, if that was possible. He looked sad, and he didn’t think it was possible, but his dead heart broke again. His eyes didn’t seem to have the same glow as they once did. They didn’t have the same shine of life they once held. Again, he knew it was his fault, but he left for a reason. He couldn’t drag him down with any more. He loved him too much for that. Time blurs again. Life becomes an endless cycle of work and home. There is no joy or laughter anymore. There are only echoes of the past and the ever-increasing white noise. The dark thoughts blocking out the sunlight of his old memories. He stops eating almost completely, determined to punish himself for remembering him. He only eats when he feels like he is on the brink, too much a coward to follow through on the thoughts running around his head. The store gets robbed again, this time he gets a bruise on his right check for being too slow. He remembers the cops asking him if needed to go to the hospital, but he just shakes his head. He walks home to the dark empty apartment that has become his only comfort. It’s the next day that everything catches up to him and the white noise that he’s been hearing for the past three years starts to fade. But that night, that night he stares at the dark ceiling wondering if he could even convince himself to get up the next day.

~

~

~

 

            He comes back to work the day after the latest robbery with the bruise slowly spreading across his thin, malnourished face. He looks up when he hears a startled gasp breaking through the white noise that has become his companion. He stares as he starts to panic. His breaths coming heavier and faster. He knows his parents are there by the quiet sobs from his mother, but he only sees him. They are here, they found him. His eyes dart around and he knows he’s looking for an escape. It’s too much. They bring too many memories with them. They are too light for what has become his dark life. An agonized whine cuts through the silence and he only recognizes that it was him making the noise when the other three jumps in surprise. He can’t take it anymore and before anyone could react, he was running. Running out of the store, running from the pain. He hears shouts of his name he no longer can remember, the white noise coming back blocking out the sounds. He hears pain in their voices and their anger at him leaving them again. He doesn’t stop until he can no longer breathe. He has no idea if lost them or even if tried to follow him.

~

~

~

 

            When he comes to his senses and looks around, he finds himself at a bridge. He steps closer to the edge and looks down at the water below. He wonders if it all came to this. If everything was always going to lead up to this point. He didn’t even realize that he was already over the rail until he hears a shout. He looks up from the dark water into the dark eyes that he has been running from. He sees him mouth something, but the white noise blocks it out. He wonders what he looks like to him. How much has he changed in his eyes? He can see a crowd gathering out of the corner of his eye, but mainly he is focused on the dark eyes that hold so much emotions in them. The other boy is still mouthing things at him, but the white noise only increases in volume. He closes his eyes and turns his face to the sky. He screams out, his throat automatically going raw from misuse. He knows that everyone is staring. He knows everyone is recording. Some are crying for him out of sympathy, whatever good that’ll do. He knows there are some twisted souls who want him to jump; to let the dark river wash him away. And he knows it is silent on the bridge now, his scream echoing in the minds of everyone there. And then he hears it. He hears his name from the voice that has haunted his dreams. He knows that it comes down to this moment. He opens his eyes and turns to the voice and he is met with the dark eyes he loves so much.

 

            “Soonyoung, please don’t leave me.” Jihoon called again, his voice breaking as he begged him.

 

            Soonyoung turned back to the water and waited for the white noise to come again. It never did, leaving his mind completely silent for the first time in three years. With a smile, he made his decision.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all like it, if you ever want to talk, I'll listen. You can message me on here or twitter @unwrittenheroes. Be brave.


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